


Where You're Needed

by Tripmatt



Category: Mass Effect, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Modern Day, Post Mass Effect 3, Season five Supernatural
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-07 23:59:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tripmatt/pseuds/Tripmatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Supernatural/Mass Effect Crossover set in the Supernatural universe. </p><p>Sam and Dean receive a phone call from the prophet Chuck. He had a vision he could barely make out, one that the Archangels didn't want him to see, of a weapon that could influence Archangels against their will. Wanting to stop Lucifer before he can end the world-Sam and Dean make their way to a small ghost town called Elysium in the Sierra Nevada Desert to find said weapon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It’s Probably Just a Coyote

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ashton you silly goose](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Ashton+you+silly+goose).



> Contains spoilers for ending to Mass Effect 3 and Spoilers of Supernatural Season 5. Inspired by a conversation I had with one of my friends who is really into Supernatural and I'm really into Mass Effect. You could probably read this if you've never played Mass Effect but it might be hard to get if you've never watched Supernatural.
> 
> Not rated because don't know how explicit I'm going to go and I don't think Destiel shippers want to live through pages of explicit hardcore Mshenko porn and vise versa.
> 
> Also I'm planning on having Shepard flirt hardcore with the boys just for the sake of making them uncomfortable. I'm not adding that on the relationship tags though, primarily because he's just doing it to be an ass.

Light reflects off the side of the Impala, a thick white gleam moving with the sun. The driver glares at the road in front of him, determination painted on his face. He purses his lips, maintaining focus on the road. The horizon drops slowly, the oranges in the sky deepening to a violet red. He’s been driving for days and the exhaustion is finally starting to make its way to his face.

               He glares at his rearview mirror for a couple seconds, eyeing the stoic man in his backseat. A small smirk shadows his lips before turning his attention back to the road.

               “Dean, there is something coming up on the next exit,” a voice erupts from the silence next to him.

               “You think I can’t read Sammy?” he retorts.

               Sam rolls his eyes, glaring out the side of his window. The silence settles between them for a couple minutes. A small shuffle and a sigh muffles behind them; an angel making his presence known.

               Dean’s voice erupts from the quiet, “So do you know exactly what we are looking for? I mean, Chuck did say there was some sort of magical weapon that can miraculously control angels, but do you even know what the damn thing is?”

               Sam shakes his head, rubbing his finger to his eye to try and keep himself awake, “He told me even he could barely make out the vision, something about the archangels not wanting him, or us for that matter, to know. They want you and me to fight Dean, so any other option is off the table.”

               “That sounds like my brothers,” retorts a deep monotone voice from the backseat. The angel’s eyes are fixated on the desert horizon, watching the passing yellow marks on the road with his peripheral vision.

               A small sound of discontent makes its way from the driver’s mouth.

               Sam sighs and glares into the distance, “This could be our chance. Apparently from Chuck’s vision it has something to do with a sheep or sheep herder in an abandoned mining town called Elysium.”

               Dean swings the wheel with one hand and pulls the car out onto an exit, sun glaring in his eyes with the sudden change in direction. The Impala begins creaking and jolting as it makes its way across a dirt road, long since driven on by anyone. He narrows his eyes from the sun, barely noticing the silhouette of what looks like a small town with just three or four buildings up in the distance.

               “Oh great. So what are we going to do? Find some sheep, shove it up Lucifer’s ass, wait for its magical mind control powers to take effect, and then tell Satan to go apologize to daddy? This plan has failure written all over it Sam.”

               “What else should we do Dean?!” The sudden raise in Sam’s voice made both of the other men grimace.

               “I-I don’t know Sammy, I’m just tired of running constantly into dead ends.”

               “Then we’ll take what we can ge-DEAN WATCH OUT,”

Sam clutches the side of the door and Dean’s hands tighten around the wheel. A tall red figure emerges from the glare of the sun and crashes into the car, maneuvering over the hood and above the roof. A scowl bores deeply into the features on Dean’s face, “OH COME ON. I _just_ got out the scratches!”

“Dean, stop the car!” Sam throws his feet out the door before the car has time to fully stop. The breaks squeal and dust settles around a black and red figure resting in the dirt, motionless. Sam runs up and kneels before the roadkill.

“It’s probably just some coyote, Sam. We are almost at the town and it’s getting dark,” Dean’s voice yells from behind him. Sam ignores him and steadily kneels in front of the dark mass. He furrows his brow when he notices the roadkill is least what he expects it to be.

“Cas, Dean, I think you need to see this.” Sam shouts.

A rustle, a couple grunts, and the sound of two car doors slamming shut as two figures approach behind Sam, casting a shadow over the figure lying in the dirt.

“Holy shit, did I cause all that blood?”

“I highly doubt that Dean. The skin around the torso and the face appears to be scorched by flame, along with the attire that appears to be on the wearer.”

“Thanks Cas, I hadn’t noticed that.”

“Anytime, Dean.” Cas glances over at Dean, a stoic and serious expression, giving him a single nod.

Sam presses his fingers on the side of the man’s neck. A small thump reaches its way across the nerve ending on his fingertips. “He’s breathing. We need to get him to a hospital. Help me carry him to the car.” He maneuvers the bloody mess into his arms as Dean stumbles over to grip the feet. Together they grunt their way to the back of the car.

“Do you think this is the sheep?” Dean grunts almost breathless as he takes half the weight.

“Worth a shot,” Sam is able to make out as he pulls the body halfway into the backseat. The man’s face pressed against his shoulder, his lips next to his ear, a slow breath making its way down Sam’s neck.

_“Di-Did I do it? “_

Sam stares down at two piercing blue eyes glaring back up at him. His eyes contrast from the rest of his face, not a single inch of skin not covered in blood or burnt flesh.

“I-uh-do what?” the younger Winchester stutters. Dean grunts beside him, the weight tiring out his shoulders.

 _“End it,”_ The man whispers.

“I don’t know, but hold on we will get you to a hospital,” Sam is able to say before the man closes his eyes again, tilting his head back, and his mouth agape.

Sam gently sets him in a sitting position in the back seat, Dean following right behind him carelessly flinging his legs into the space behind the driver’s side.

“Don’t get any blood on my back seat,” Dean remarks before slamming the door on the unconscious man.  

 

.:.

 

They arrive at the hospital nearly at midnight. Dean sped to a city seemingly in the middle of nowhere: Reno, Nevada. Eventually halfway through the road trip the unconscious man toppled over into the angel’s lap. Even though Castiel was extremely uncomfortable with a bleeding dying man struggling for breath on top of him, his hand made its way to his buzzed scalp in hope that it would comfort the human.

The hallways of the hospital reek with cleaning supplies and sanitizer. As the wheels cross the white tile, a multitude of nurses crowd around the bleeding unconscious man, dragging the bed to an emergency room.  Three gruff men occupy the waiting lounge. Sam stands and rummages his hand through his hair as the other two sit side by side on a nearby couch.

“So is he an angel or something Cas?” Dean folds his hands together, keeping quiet.

“No, from what I saw, he is not angel nor demon. Although since he was in a very bad state it was hard to tell if he was anything.”

               Dean get up and takes a spot next to Sam, “Any idea what we do now? We have things we have to sort out and people we have to call like Bobby and the rest of the gang. One of us should stay here in case he wakes up.”

               “Or the doctors find something unnatural and we have to bust him out before doctors start wondering things.” Sam adds, “I’ll stay here since I was the first face he saw when he woke up earlier. Take Castiel with you, if anything goes wrong here I’ll call or pray to Cas. I’ll stay for a while. If it gets to late then I’ll take a cab home.”

               Dean nods and motions for Cas to follow him.

               “Be careful, okay? We don’t know what he is or how he got where he was. Hell we don’t even know if all that blood covering him was his own. I’ll get the closest room I can find to the hospital.”

              

.:.

 

               Sam’s takes a deep breath, resting his face in the palms of his hands, and almost coughs from the overwhelming smell of hand sanitizer slathered over his fingers. The temptation of the neatly placed bottle on the end table overtook him over as he decided to squirt a bit too much into his hands, in an attempt to keep himself busy. The medical facilities lights emit a soft buzzing sound, helping drown out the world around him. He lets his mind wander as he sits alone- a small moment of peace as he focuses only on his breathing and this one small quiet moment.

               A raspy sudden clearing of a man’s throat snaps him back into reality. He looks up to find a small middle aged man wearing a white uniform glaring at him with large beady green eyes.

               “Mr-” The doctor glances down at the clip board he’s holding, “Mr. Bolten? Michael Bolten?”

               “Uh-yeah, that’s me,” Sam gets up from his chair, only to find himself looming over the short doctor. The doctor holds out his hand and the hunter’s natural gentleman instincts take hold as he grabs and firmly shakes the clean doctor’s hands. He holds onto the man’s hand slightly too long and is left with a small awkward moment as he realizes he should of released his grasp a multitude of seconds ago. He fumbles his hand back to his side, his arm stiff. A small cough escapes his throat trying to hide his embarrassment, but ultimately failing. The doctor smirks and looks down at his papers.

               “My name is Dr. Perry. The patient you brought in has been stabilized. We put him in a medically induced coma so he won’t be able to see sunshine for a few days. His injuries consisted of third degree burns, mostly on the left side of the body, there will be scarring; head trauma, the primary reason why we had to put him in a coma; and a hefty amount of broken bones, especially in his chest area. We presume he was stuck in a fire inside a building and the infrastructure fell on him, perhaps in some sort of industrial area? He was wearing some sort of reinforced metal plates that were severely damaged. It took a while to examine the physical makeup of his injuries because of the amount of blood covering his whole body. He is one lucky man. Where did you find him?”

               “We found him wandering on the side of the road and eventually he just collapsed so we brought him here,” Sam stammers, “By any chance did you get his name? Did he have any identification on him?”

               “That’s where things get seemingly tricky. He was wearing a pair of dog tags but both dog tags had different names. One of the dog tags has the name _Kaidan Alenko_ while the other has the name _John Shepard.”_

               _Shepard_

Sam’s mind put the puzzle pieces together; _Chuck said something about a sheep or sheep herder. It has to be this Shepard guy._

“So everything went okay? There was nothing strange about the guy?”

The doctor grimaced at Sam’s strange question, “Besides being half dead? Just be glad you found him when you did. Although now that you bring it up, his choice of clothing is awfully strange. We know its metal, even by the amount it’s been scorched, but you would think burning metal would increase his injuries underneath the plating. Besides broken bones and various bruising, little to no burn marks were apparent underneath. It’s almost as if it’s an armor of some sort.”

Sam frowns, nervous where this might be going. He doesn’t need any authority figures getting curious on what might be their only lead.

“Thank you doc. Thank you for everything,” Sam smiles, “Is there a way my friends and I can come in later sometime to check up on him?”

The doctor gave a hearty chuckle, “Yes, hopefully we’ll be done with all necessary surgeries and examinations and have him in a recovering state within the next week or so. He will be in no way able to walk, much less get out of bed, but we want to get him out of the medically induced coma as soon as we can. It truly is a god given miracle that he even survived this long.”

 

.:.

 

               The cab has a musky deep smell imbedded within the seats. Sam examines the advertisements for gentleman’s clubs and bars glowing on top of the vehicle while maneuvering his body out of the back. He waves the driver off and pulls a small phone out from his pocket and pulls up his text messages.

              **silversun hotel inside the silver coast casino rm 802 u got to check out the chick at the front desk. shes smokin**

Sam squints his eyes at the entrance. It’s just before dusk and the only sleep he has gotten in the last two days were the couple hours inside the Impala. Neon signs blind him as he enters the colossal casino. The place is dark, but lit up by a multitude of noisy blinking slot machines and strips of neon lights trailing across the floors and ceiling. The atmosphere is perplexing and busy, even for the early morning. He stares at the tiles on the ceiling, only to find himself staring back at him. The ceiling is a mirror stretching the lengths of the walking paths in the casino, only ending at two large pillars located at the end of the casino.

               Walking past the casino and past the pillars, the dark obscure atmosphere changes into a grand, quiet, lobby made of tan and grey marbles. Greek influenced pillars and statues populate the sides of the elegant lobby while a tall water fountain stands in the center. Tiny biblical cherubs pour water out of jugs from the top of the fountain to the bottom where other tiny marble cherubs play around the center.

               Two large halls separate off in the back of the large dome like lobby, leading to two different sets of elevators. At the end of the room in between the two halls an elegant marble desk emerges from the ground, with a curvy strawberry blonde woman typing away at a monitor in front of her. She has her hair pull back tight, thin dark eyebrows, and a determined scowl on her face.

               Sam approaches her with his eyes still set on the grand decorations placed throughout the room.

               “How do I get to Room 802?” he asks as he approaches the lady behind the desk.

               “The set of elevators on your left will take you directly there. Room 802 is on the eighth floor and should be the first door on your right.”

               “Thank you,” Sam grinned. Dean was right, she was attractive especially when she smiled.

 

.:.

 

               The lock on the door made a clicking sound as it swung open, revealing a sleepy eyed Dean, rubbing the tired expression from his eyes, but ultimately failing.

               “How much exactly did this room cost?” Sam says interrogating Dean upfront. He peers behind his brother revealing an equally elegant room compared to the lobby Sam had just come from.

               A mumble came from Dean’s mouth, barely audible, to try and avoid answering the question.

               “ _Dean,”_ Sam attempts to push further.

               “I wanted to try the Casino okay? Have a little fun before the world ends,” Dean defends, “plus I already called Bobby about the situation. Got all your stuff set up. Bought you some pie. Come on Sammy, let’s just have fun for a bit okay?”

               Sam shakes his head before pushing past Dean. He sits himself down on the black comforter and rubs his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up more.

               “Sam, did you find anything else out about our John Doe?” Dean remarks while closing the door to the apartment.

               “Um, yeah actually. Not much but something,” Sam begins, “Our John Doe is actually a John Shepard. I guess he’s our sheep after all. He’s been through a lot, god knows what, especially in the middle of the desert. He’s burned, some head damage, and a lot of broken bones. Even the doctor was baffled that he was alive in the condition he was in.”

               “Nothing else?” Dean murmurs as he pulls a small wooden cardboard box from a grocery bag sitting on the counter.

               “He was wearing some sort of metal reinforcement,” Sam says quietly, “maybe armor.”

               Dean pulls a neat blueberry pie out from the cardboard box and looks around the kitchen for silverware with no such luck.

               “Oh and he wore these dog tags,” Sam speaks up, “from what the doctor said, both of his dog tags had two separate names. One of the tags said John Shepard while the other mentioned some Camden or Keith Al-Alkeno or something. I can’t remember the other’s name exactly.”

               “So you got his name from the dog tags?” Dean’s voice ending on a suspicious note, “How do we know that _he_ is Shepard and not Camden? Also why do you think he is wearing two names around his neck? Sounds a bit suspicious to me.”

               Sam lets out a deep breath of air before collapsing face first into his pillow. “I don’t know Dean,” his muffled voice erupts from the pillow, “Can we just look into this later? I’m exhausted.”

               Dean scoffs at the words he was able to make out from his sleep deprived brother.


	2. New Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this 3 or 4 times. I hope you guys like it ;-;

                Dean paces back and forth in his messy hotel room. His anxiety increases as the clock ticks by. He looks over the mess of newspaper articles and crime scene photos scattered over Sam and his beds.

It’s been more than a month since he ran over the bleeding man with his car and the doctors have updated very little on their patients condition. Luckily there was no short supply of cases that needed the brother’s attention in the many casinos and back alleyways of ‘The Biggest Little City in the World.

Often Sam would get worried that the doctors had found something suspicious about John Shepard and sent him off to Area 51 without their knowledge. That however was never the case when the crew went to go check up on his condition in the hospital. However, much to their fears, a couple issues did come up. After all, they were the Winchesters. How could anything go smoothly?

The first issue was the dog tags. The hospital had sent the imprinted info off to the United States military hoping to get an identity. No results came up and the issue slowly resolved itself. The doctors assumed that the dog tags were custom and used just for looks.

The second issue occurred when the doctors where undergoing operations involving heavy blood loss. The doctors stated that the damage that was done was far worse than they predicted and the only reason he was still breathing was because of some strange metal implants that were in his spine. Dean and Sam became weary when the doctors wanted to do a couple operations to figure out what exactly was holding him together. However, with some carefully placed calls to Bobby, they were able to convince the doctors that they had no right tampering with the man’s metal implants unless they want to get the feds involved (in which Sam and Dean preceded to lie and tell them they _were_ Federal Agents, just off duty.) Doctor Perry, being the oblivious Doctor that he was, decided it wasn’t worth the resources or the paperwork and called off the procedure much to the brothers’ relief.

Dean pushes aside the thoughts in his mind, he was getting distracted. He glances over at the angel sitting solemnly in the chair across the room, probably lost in thought or trying to tune into angel radio. He focuses his attention back to the piles of papers on the bed and furrows his brow back into concentration.

*

_The first thing the bar patron noticed was the way her hips moved toward him. He looked at her feverishly, sipping a Corona at a place shoved in the back corner of the hustling casino. As the night progresses her finger lingered in his belt loop, her lipstick stained the collar of his shirt. She made her way to his mouth; he let out a soft groan. Immeasurable amounts of comfort and warmth flooded over him as she parted her soft swollen lips and stuck her tongue inside his mouth._

This feels wrong, _he tried telling himself. Before he knew it he was following her to her hotel room. His jacket barely lingered onto his shoulders before walking through the door, only to be discarded on the floral carpet upon entering. He fumbled with his pants belt, pulling them down to his ankles before kicking them off to the side.       He couldn’t keep his hands off her, her long wavy black hair, the clean form fitting clothing she filled out in all the right places. He fumbled with the hem of her shirt, attempting to pull it off her before being slammed into a headboard. Confused he gathered his surroundings and blinked a couple times to gain reality. The beauty stood over him, her feet firmly placed on both sides of his body._

_Still turned on, he gave her his best seductive look, only for it to dramatically shift into a look of dread as she lunged at him baring sharp, dangerous teeth._

_*_

Sam taps the end of a pen on his mouth a couple times to try and regain his thoughts.

                “So, wait, the victim died on the fifth floor right?” Dean asks. Sam lifts himself up off the wall and paces over to Dean.

                “Yeah, and get this; his suite is a couple floors above our room. He didn’t die in his own suite however; he died in a vacant single bedroom on the other end of the casino. Also, he was staying in one of the most costly rooms in this whole place. He was paying close to a thousand dollars a night.”

                “Maybe he was here on a business trip? Maybe our killer is going after wealthy rich business men.”

                “Yeah I thought that too,” Sam announces, “It fits the first two kills, in a way, but the third and the forth victims were just men getting drunk at a bar. They didn’t even have rooms here.”

                “Do you have any leads on what we’re hunting?” questions Dean, his brows furrowing with confusion.

                “I sent copies of everything over to Bobby; this is something we haven’t fought before. Or at least haven’t fought much of. Bobby told me he would get back to me as soon as he could.”

                Almost as if on cue Sam’s phone began buzzing. He looks down at his phone in surprise.

                **SAINT MARYS MEDICAL**

“It’s the hospital,” Sam lets out a sigh and swipes his finger to answer, “Hello?”

                “Yes, Mr. Bolten?” Doctor Perry erupts from the other line. Sam grimaces at the use of the name Mr. Bolten. He reminds himself to strangle Dean for coming up with such unnecessary aliases. “This past week our John Doe has been waking up out of his coma. He became conscious this morning and I thought I’d let you know. Would you like to come in and see him? We told him he had frequent visitors, he wanted to see you.”

                “U-Uh yeah,” Sam says with wide surprised eyes. Dean leans in closer trying to listen to the conversation.

                “Thanks, that’d be great. Come in anytime, he’s not going anywhere with the condition he’s in.”

                “Yeah that wouldn’t be a problem.” With that Sam hangs up the phone and turns to Dean, “It looks like our Sheep came out of hibernation today.”

                “Sheep don’t hibernate Sam,” Castiel quips from the opposite end of the room.

 

.:.

 

                Anticipation shows as the boys barrel through the halls of the hospital looking for room D23. Dean spots Doctor Perry in halls and calls him over.

                “Ah you made it! Good, good! The patient is in excellent condition… considering the amount of damage done to him. He’s in the room over there,” the Doctor points the tip of his pen over to a room at the end of the hall; “he’s in our Recovery Unit. We are still monitoring his vitals. The weird thing is he seems to be healing by himself.”

“Isn’t that what bodies are supposed to do?” Dean spits out.

“Well yes, but he is healing abnormally fast. We’ve never seen this sort of recovery before. He won’t be in full working condition for a bit. After you get done talking to him we’ll talk about physical therapy-“ 

                The doctor pauses and a solemn look shadows his face. Sam notices, “What is it, Doc?”

                “And mental therapy. We tried asking him a few questions when he got out of a coma. He was extremely confused on where he was. He kept bringing up something about, “The Reapers”. We hypothesize it has something to do with a near death experience. We couldn’t get many answers out of him. Maybe you could. Here are his dog tags. If the time feels appropriate, feel free to bring them to him.”

                Both brothers exchange looks of dread. Sam grabs the dog tags and stuffs them into his pocket. “We’ll cover all that Doc, thanks a lot.” The Doctor nods suspiciously and lets the boys out of his sight as he carries on with his duties. Dean bolts through the door first, two reluctant men follow behind. Sam swallows at the sight before him.

                The man is pale and thinner than a month ago.  Thick dark circles cloud under his eyes and from his neck down is covered in bandages. Tape and tubes emerge from his chest and arms.

                “So, who are you?” Dean interrogates. His abrupt entrance and voice startling the man. He looms over the bedside. Sam takes a seat by the bed and Cas lingers by the doorway.

                “I- I uh-,” the man’s voice is hoarse and barely audible, “Where am I? Wh- Who are you?”

                “Look, we ask the questions here, buddy. Now answer before I-“

                “DEAN,” Sam interjects, “Go wait in hall Dean!”

                The older brother grumbles and begins to protest, but before he can finish Sam grabs him by his arm and drags him next to Castiel.

                “Listen, I know you’re on edge. We are all on edge, but scaring the man into doing what we want isn’t going to solve any of our problems,” Sam takes a deep breath, “I’ll talk to him, okay? He probably doesn’t need three guys breathing down his back after God knows what.”

                “Fine. Fine. You’re probably right. I’m just really on edge. We’ve been waiting for sleeping beauty to wake up now for over a month,” Dean raises his hands in surrender. He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath as Castiel leads him into the hall, “Be careful Sammy.”

                Sam nods and heads back to the hospital bed. He sits in the same spot he was before and braces both of his palms together, placing them gently on the stranger’s bedside. The man eyes every motion the Winchester does, expecting anything. A notion Sam is much too familiar with.

                “My name is Sam. You’re in a hospital recovering from some extremely serious injuries and you just woke out of a coma.”

                The small sound of discontent passes through the man’s lips, “The doctors already told me that.”

                “Okay, I’ll answer anything you want. How’s that?,” Sam lowers his gaze. He’s taking a huge leap of faith, offering the complete truth to someone he doesn’t even know. Maybe he’ll leave out only a few important details, “but before we begin, I have to know. Who exactly are you?”

                “Commander Shepard, Systems Alliance,” The man continues to eye Sam suspiciously, “What exactly happened before I went into a coma?”

                “Well- uh that’s quite the story. My brother ran you over with our car. You were bleeding to death so we drag-“

                “That’s not what I meant,” Shepard’s voice slowly changed into more demanding tone, however hints of rasp still remain apparent, “but I would like to know more about that later. What I mean is the sky is clear blue and there are no destroyed buildings outside my hospital window. Either I’ve been in a coma a lot longer than a month or I’m on a different planet that wasn’t hit. Either way, you’re lying to me. So I’ll ask you one more time: What happened, and where am I?”

                The raise of the man’s voice peaks Dean’s attention from outside the hall. Dean swings around the corner and leans on the door frame, observing the situation.

                “Please stay calm. Fighting in the state you’re in won’t get either of us the answers we’re looking for,” Sam shuffles around in his seat, the sudden increase in tension making him uncomfortable, “What do you mean clear sky and destroyed buildings? What exactly was destroyed?”

                “Don’t play dumb with me. Last time I woke up in a medical facility I ended up trusting the wrong people. I even got a few people I cared about killed. Either you tell me what’s going on or you’ll have a bigger threat than any reaper on your hands.”

                Dean paces at an alarming speed towards the bed and pulls out the knife resting on his side. He holds the knife to Shepard’s throat and tugs on the hospital gown bringing him up to eye level, “Don’t you dare threaten my brother you dirty scumbag. I ran you over before and I can do it again, and I’ll be sure to back up the second time around.”

                “Who do you think you are,” The growl that emerges from Shepard’s throat is dark and ruthless. Sam picks up on the brutality and quickly makes his way behind Dean, trying to persuade him to walk away.

                “Listen Dean, we don’t know who or what he is. This can be our only chance so let’s all just get along. Okay?”

                “You want to know who I am!? I am Dean Winchester. I went to hell and came back. I’ve killed more demons than one could count. I’ve _died_ more times than one could comprehend,”

                Dean throws Shepard down back on the bed with a grunt and a scowl.

                “So who are you working for, Huh? Are you working for the angels? Is that it? Maybe the Demons? Did Crowley put you up to this? You know so much about the Reapers. Are you working for them? Is that it?” The older Winchester was practically spitting on the other man’s face by the time he got done spilling out question after question, releasing his pent up anger.

                “What are you talking about? You’re speaking like a madman!” Shepard retaliates. His voice breaking any raspy barriers he had before, “How do I know you’re not indoctrinated? How am I supposed to trust the two of you?”

                Dean holds his hands up behind his head and walks away in frustration.

                A loud clatter sounds from down the hallway from their room. Sam jumps up at the sound of nurses screaming down the hall and Castiel barges in, “Sam. Dean. There are demons in the hallway.”

                “Dammit,” Dean mumbles under his breath, “How did they find us?”

                “I don’t know but it’s probably not a good time to ask questions,” Sam contemplates, “We need to find a way to get him out of here.”

                Doctor Perry strides into the room with a male nurse behind him. His eyes flicker black as he stares at Sam, “It looks like we got ourselves a situation.”

                Dean pulls out his knife and Sam braces himself in front of the bed. A few more medical staff appear from the hallway, some holding scalpels for weapons. Doctor Perry lunges forward towards Dean. Dean grabs his collar and pushes him against the wall, his other hand firmly positioned to stab the Doctor at any given moment.

“How did you find us?!” Dean asks as he slams the Doctor’s head against the wall a second time.

The doctor lands with a loud thud and begins to laugh manically, “We’ve been watching you for a while. Luci got a whiff of your scent a few weeks back. We’ve just been waiting for the perfect moment.”

Dean slams his head against the wall another time and begins to maneuver the blade into the other man’s chest when a large hand grabs his arm and yanks it back. The knife goes sliding across the floor and Dean looks back distraught. The nurse grabs Dean and throws him across the room. He lands at the foot of Shepard’s bed and surveys his situation. Sam is being held down by two large nurses and Castiel is cornered by the rest of the staff. Some of the staff come over and surround Dean, grabbing his arms and bracing them against the foot of the bed.

 “This is your plan? You Winchesters have really run out of options, have you? A fallen angel, a drug addicted psychopath, and the shell of a man that once was.” The Doctor laughs again, this time lower and more insidious. The doctor leans forward and grabs Dean’s jaw, “Now you want to add some handicapped veteran into the mix?”

A disgruntled moan happens behind Dean catching the Doctor’s attention. Shepard pulls his body up until he’s sitting upright. He yanks the tubes and medical tape from his body letting out sharp hisses. He shifts his leg over the hospital bed until his feet are dangling over the ground.

“This is truly an adorable sight,” Doctor Perry shifts Dean’s face to look at the struggling soldier. Sam begins to protest but is quickly quieted by the slap of a nurse. “Look at this poor helpless man trying to save the day. Who do you think you are?”

“Funny you say that,” Shepard takes a deep breath before setting one foot on the floor; “You want to know who I am?”

Shepard’s hand tightly grips the sheets of the bed as he places his other foot on the ground. He lets go of the bed when he thinks he has a good balance. He stands there for a few seconds with a look of gaping relief on his face. He takes a step forward and his leg buckles. He finds himself landing face first on the cold hard ground.

Dean winces at the sight and Sam turns his head away. The Doctor chuckles and tightens his grip on Dean’s jaw, “This is your saviour? Wow.”

Shepard lifts his arm up and grabs the side of the bed. He drags his upper torso up and struggles to get back on his feet again.

“Come on man, this is really painful to watch.” Dean murmurs.

“I think it’s adorable,” smirks the doctor.

Shepard finally maneuvers himself in a crouched position on the floor. His hands brace the ground as he slowly moves his body up. He takes a deep breath as he finally gets to level with the doctor. He stammers a step forward.

“I am Commander Shepard,” he takes another step towards the Doctor, “I’ve went to the darkest corners of this galaxy and came back. I’ve killed more reapers than one could count.”

Dean glances up at Shepard, who is now only a couple feet from a chuckling doctor. _You have got to be kidding me,_ he thinks to himself. The doctor lets go of Dean’s face and turns to face Shepard.

“And I’ve _survived_ more times than one could comprehend.” Shepard let’s those words linger in the air for a bit before balling up his right fist. A glowing orange light bursts from his arm and transforms into a flickering blade. He drives the hologram into the center of the demons chest and the doctor gasps in surprise. The demons eyes go black for a split second before erupting into balls of fire and singeing empty holes into the doctor’s face.

Surprised, the other hospital staff let go of Dean and Sam. Shepard finds his remaining strength and braces himself as the other nurses and doctors run toward him. He extends out his arm and flies toward the crowd of angry demons. Only mere inches from his targets he finds himself tripping on his legs again and lands on a nurse. The Winchesters and Castiel take this opportunity to take on the rest of the crowd.

Sam runs for the blade while Dean goes over to aid Shepard with the mob. Castiel takes on the demons from behind, doing his best to keep up with the trained hunters. Shepard finds a balance, half between tripping over demons on the floor and half tackling demons that try to flank a Winchester from behind.

Together they weed out the demons one by one until the rest try and escape by flying out by a thick black smoke. The quiet settles around the group for a few seconds.

“That’s quite the useful tool you have there,” Dean quips.

“It’s almost drained of power and severely damaged. I’m surprised you two don’t have one,” Shepard slowly makes his way to the other brothers.

“You say that as if it’s weird we don’t,” Sam interjects. Shepard’s movements are halfway between a limp and drag. Eventually he makes it to Sam and does his best to stand up straight to meet the other man’s eyes. A few inches shorter, Shepard resigns with a sigh.

“Where exac-“ Shepard’s legs bend unwillingly, yet again, and this time he lands on the younger Winchester. Sam almost loses his balance by the sudden body mass, but he gains himself and grabs Shepard from falling all the way to the floor. Shepard looks up in defeat, “I’m sorry. I seem to be landing on all sorts of large, dangerous, hard things these days.”

Dean chokes out a laugh.

“Let’s go find you a wheelchair,” Sam says, a red blush creeping up on his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My headcanon for omni-tools is that they are implants installed underneath the user's skin. Wires run up through the arm and into the hand and the omni-tool is activated when the user applies pressure with their finger to the palm of their hand. Which is the reason why Shepard still has his omni-tool and it's in partly working condition.


	3. The World Beneath Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter where things get really weird really fast.  
> There is a lot of dragging going on for some reason :I.

Shepard leans on Sam’s shoulder, shuffling into the hall following Dean and Cas. Sam looks both ways in the corridors until he finds an idle wheelchair near the elevators. The halls are eerily silent and empty.

                “Something is wrong. We need to get out of here before more come,” Sam notions as he nudges Shepard along. At the end of the hall they reach a large lobby where the elevators are. Shepard breaks off from Sam and limps toward the ceiling high windows. Dean moves toward him but is stopped when Sam puts the palm of his hands on his chest motioning him to give the man some space.

                Shepard rests his forearm on the glass and looks down at the world beneath him. He furrows his eyebrows and loses his breath. He turns briefly to the brothers and opens his mouth about to say something. Nothing comes out except silence and disbelief. Why is everything so old yet so new?

                “Is there something bothering you?” Castiel raises his eyebrows in worry.

                “I’m… I’m dead aren’t I?” Shepard chokes out, catching his reflection in the glass. He moves his hand up to thumb the obscure scars on his face. The brother’s stay silent contemplating what words to choose. His eyes stayed fixated on his reflection, “These… they aren’t the same.” He makes out, still caressing his scars, stretching his neck to get a better look at the ones on his jaw. “This place… this is Earth?”

                “Last time I checked,” Dean says flatly, “What exactly isn’t the same?”

                “Where am I? How long was I unconscious?” Shepard begins to panic, lifting himself up off the glass. He turns his head away, ashamed to look at his face. His eyes turn dark as a slow realization dawns on him. He doesn’t know anything, and that scares him. He doesn’t know anyone. He doesn’t know how to get in contact with anyone. He doesn’t even know if they’re _alive._ His breathing speeds up and his fists clench, barely keeping the self-control to punch a hole through someone’s skull

“Woah, calm down there buddy. Just breath, okay?” Dean strides over and places a hand on his shoulder. Shepard gives him an empty look but doesn’t shrug off his touch, “You’re here. On Earth. It’s September 29th 2009.”

                Shepard looks at him in bewilderment. His eyes widen as he turns around and looks back outside, “No-no that’s impossible.”

                Shepard moves from Dean’s grasp and hides his face, trying to keep his emotions at bay. The brothers look at each other, uncertain whether to say anything. Unknowing what would be the right and wrong thing to say to such a stranger.

                “Where do you call home?” Sam speaks up from the silence. Shepard hangs his head low in defeat, his shoulders barely keeping the weight up. Dean holds his breath as Sam takes a place beside Shepard.

                “September 28th, 2186,” Shepard says, eyes plastered to the ground. Castiel’s eyes widen in awe. Dean clears his throat silently waiting for him to continue. Shepard looks up into Sam’s eyes, “I-I don’t know. I don’t really know where home was. I guess it was on a warship.”

                Shepard trails off and looks up. His eyes study the cloudless sky above, placing his hand on the glass while Dean observes the features on Shepard’s face.

                “We need to get out of here. I need answers,” he says in his most commanding tone catching the boys off guard. They get the impression that anger makes him forget he’s in bad health. One step after another, he makes it to the other end of the lobby with no inconveniences. Shepard almost makes it to the elevator before tripping and landing on the cold tiled floor.

                “One step at a time boy scout,” Dean comes up from behind him, wraps his arms underneath his shoulder, and hauls him up back to his level. He punches the down button on the elevator and turns to Sam and Cas behind him, “I’ll take him down on the elevator. You two take the stairs in case we get flanked and we need back up. ”

                Sam nods and pulls Castiel towards the fire exit near the windows. Dean jams the first floor button signaling the door to close seconds later. The doors shut and the elevator jerks into motion as Dean eyes the abstruse individual struggling to keep balance by his side. A small smirk shadows on Shepard’s face not going unnoticed by Dean.

                “What is it?”

                “Hm?” Shepard looks up, almost appearing in a façade of innocence.

                “You’re smirking. What’s so funny?”

                “You called me boy scout.”

                “And what of it?” Dean questions him, attempting to sound brusque.

                “It-It just reminds me of someone. You’re starting to remind me of someone,” Shepard rolls his eyes and turns away. Maybe too much like someone.

                The elevator seizes to a stop abruptly catching Shepard off guard. He wraps his arms around Dean’s arm to keep from falling down.

                “You’re just on top performance today, aren’t you?” Dean jests and smiles.

                “I’d rather be on top of you,” Shepard smiles back with his obscure facial scars twisting in a strange fashion.

                A large breath escapes Dean’s throat, “Don’t try too hard buddy.” Shepard holds back the sudden opportunity for another innuendo, the struggle being evident on his face.

                Carefully, Dean hauls Shepard out into the hall. He scopes out the perimeter and slowly grips the knife by his side. The hospital is quiet and dark. No one is anywhere, not even a single dead body in sight.

                “Movement on the left flank,” Shepard whispers next to Dean. Dean jerks around and settles himself in a defensive stance, effectively blocking Shepard from any enemy force. A shadow emerges from the entrance to the stairwell, revealing a bemused Sam.

                “Where’s Cas?” Dean grills his brother. A thick tension quickly builds in his voice. On cue, Castiel emerges behind Sam looking slightly worried. Dean abandons his post next to Shepard to check on the angel.

                “The place is empty. The lights went out while you were in the elevator. I was worried the elevator stopped working,” Sam speaks quickly and quietly while regrouping next to Shepard, “No one is here. From what I can tell, even the patients are gone.”

                “What the hell is going on?” Shepard asks, distraught by the eerie atmosphere around him.

                “We have to get out of here,” Cas interjects. Sam agrees and motions the boys toward the exit. Dean hauls Shepard up, making haste as Sam and Cas follow behind, ready to pounce on whatever might spring from the shadows.

Castiel stops in his tracks and looks up.

                “We’re almost there. Can you make it to the car?” Dean asks Shepard, oblivious to the unmoving angel. Shepard nods his head while Dean pushes them out of the two sets of doors and into the sunlight.

                “Come on guys, the parking garage is- Sam? Cas?” A sense of dread washes over the Winchester as he hastily turns back. He pushes on the door handle but it’s locked. He peers inside but only sees an unnatural black surrounding the inside. He bangs on the glass and continues to look inside, “Cas! Sam!”

                “Oh no,” Dean starts to panic. He pulls out a gun hidden underneath his shirt and doesn’t hesitate to pull the trigger at the glass. The loud shatter makes Shepard jump as Dean leans down to maneuver through the shards and make his way back inside. He pushes his way through the unlocked second set of doors and disappears into the darkness. Shepard, too confused to do much with the situation, waits outside.

                “Cas?! Sammy?!” Dean shouts from the inside. His shouting slowly fades further away and each shout becomes more and more distraught.  Moments later Dean emerges back out from the darkness lost with glossy eyes. “They’re gone. They’re gone. It’s my fault, I wasn’t paying attention and now they’re gone.”

                “Mind telling me what the hell exactly is going on?” Shepard questions.

                “I-I don’t know. It could be demons. It’s probably demons. I need to call Bobby. Come on we need to get to the car,” with that said, Dean grabs Shepard by the arm and drags him to the Impala.

 

.:.

 

Castiel stops in his tracks and looks up.

                Sam takes a few steps forward before turning back around to the angel. The sound of the front doors opening resonates behind him as Dean and Shepard exit.

                “Cas, come on. We need to go.” Sam goes to grab the angel by the arm to pull him toward the exit. The angel doesn’t budge but continues to look up.

                “Something’s here, Sam,” Cas whispers, “Something isn’t right.”

                Sam jerks his head around to scope the area. The increasing darkness makes it harder for him tell anything apart.

                “We need to leave. Now.” Sam demands as he yanks Castiel until he’s dragging him to the exit.

                Sam pushes the door open holding Castiel by the arm. The angel abides by the man handling with little to no resistance as they go through the second set of doors.

                “This… this isn’t where we were.” Sam pins his look at the sky. A sudden feeling of lethargy washes over him. Dark thundering clouds rage on overhead. The atmosphere paints the eroding buildings grey and bleak. The city is quiet and bare. No cars or people litter the streets. In a way it’s calming, but the unknowns unsettle Sam. The angel remains quiet beside him.

                “It’s Lucifer,” Castiel murmers beside him, “Only an archangel could do something like this.”

                “Do something like what?” Sam says, still staring open mouthed at his surroundings, “What is happening? Where is everyone? Where’s Dean?”

                “I don’t know Sam but I can feel Lucifer here,” Castiel turns back to the hospital, “We have to find answers.”

                Sam opens his mouth to speak but is cut off when part of a large industrial building in front of him breaks off. The debris floats off into the distance hitting another large structure, causing a catalyst of collisions. All particles of dust seem to be immune to gravity, floating effortlessly toward the atmosphere.

                Sam turns around to follow Cas back inside the hospital, but is pulled short by his sudden movements. He can’t walk or run fast. Everything he does seems to be cut short in slow motion. A low deep rumbling echoes from underneath his feet as he tries to run toward Castiel. His vision becomes blurry as he continues to slow down, as if two different strong gravitational forces are pulling against him.

                _Submit Sam Winchester_

He falls to his knees unable to stand. He looks around for Castiel but finds himself alone, stranded in a grey corroding city. He chokes out a breath.

                _I do not wish to hurt you._

                “Shut Up!” He covers his ears trying to silence the loud rumbling voice in his head. His back caves in and his muscles tense as his body is forced against the concrete by gravity alone. He forces his head up in protest trying to stay awake. He squints his eyes as he sees a shining blue figure in the distance. Unable to keep them open for much longer he lays his head on the concrete and lets the darkness wash over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this turned out all right  
> feedback is much appreciated. I honestly don't know if I'm doing this right.


End file.
